


(No Sign of Love) Behind the Tears

by CykaSpace



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Beatles Song, Lowercase, M/M, abuse of commas, christ this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CykaSpace/pseuds/CykaSpace
Summary: Based off of one of my favourite Beatles songs. See if you can guess which one :-) Also, this hadn't been proof-read so I apologise for any mistakes. Also, the story is set in the early years of John and Paul's relationship.





	(No Sign of Love) Behind the Tears

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a story to hold people while I work on something else for a while. Sorry the posts haven't been frequent but I'm really working on something good at the moment.

paul sat on his bed, guitar cradled gently in his lap and cigarette dangling delicately from his lips. the remnants of tears stained his face and he sniffed again. john had been right out of line with that comment. his sharp tongue and fierce temper had previously drawn paul to him, especially when john was standing up to a teacher or an authority figure, but, when those hate-soaked words were directed at him, paul felt so utterly small and defenceless. he'd realised early on that he'd rather curl up and die than have john's anger-induced, white-hot and rage-filled words thrown at him in such a casual way that it could almost be spoken as if it were a promise. 

ah, there it was. the one thing that paul utterly hated about john; his promises. again, paul had realised early on that john just didn't do promises. to begin with, when paul and john were almost strangers, there would only be a very small promise that was broken; john would promise to help him with a certain chord and fail to do so. paul, whilst being slightly pissed off, would eventually work out the chord himself and not mention a word about it to john when he next saw him. as their friendship progressed, however, and paul began to sort of trust john a little more, he began to notice that john was awfully shit at keeping promises. 'promise you'll keep this song away from the others, yeah?' 'yeah, of course.' john never told paul he'd told one of his mates the song, and paul only found out a few months later at a party with that same mate who took the piss out of paul for the rest of the night, calling him a "child" and a "poof". this time, paul _did _bring it up with john, demanding to know why he told this prat about his song. the only reply he'd gotten at the time was a shrug and a harsh snap of 'not my fault you write some pretty queer lyrics, is it, paulie?' paul had been infuriated at the time, yet he still kept trusting john with ideas, secrets and whatever else came to mind.

so there paul sat. his lights out and the moonlight seeping in through the window. it had been, what, two, three hours since john had stormed out after their argument? and paul hadn't gotten any phone calls since. he wondered vaguely if john ever got as worked up as he did when these fights happened. just the image of john sitting in his room, sobbing into his fists, an elvis record playing faintly in the background, his mind filled with paul, sent a small, masochistic wave of pleasure through paul's body. he fucking loved john with all his heart but the lad could be a cunt sometimes. 

little did paul know, john was even more worked up; the older shaking in his bed, curled up on his side and sobbing freely. mimi had previously come in to check on john and had offered to lend and ear but john coldly dismissed her with a sentence he couldn't remember and a wave of his hand. mimi would never understand the pure love john felt for paul. he was so sure that this white-hot love was just him hating paul, like when you touch a hot tap in the bath and it feels cold for a split second. but, no. john loved paul and what did he always do? push the lad away. john hated himself. he fucking _despised _himself. in fact, john was john's most hated person on this planet. john let out a weak sob and wiped a hand under his nose. he needed to hear that paul was alright, that he hadn't hurt paul too much. 

john slowly rose from the bed and wiped his eyes before standing up and walking down the hall to the telephone. he dialled paul's number and waited for a moment, praying to whatever god was out there that paul picked up.

'hello?' paul's delicate voice sounded. john breathed a sigh of relief before guilt washed over him and the tears began to fall again.

'paul, i'm so sorry,' he whimpered. 'i'm a fucking failure, you're too good for me, i can't _fucking_-' 

'shh, john, calm down,' paul inturrupted and john clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle a loud sob.

'is this about the argument?' paul asked, suddenly taking on the authoritarian role. john replied with a choked yes.

'would you like to come over and sort things out?' paul asked. 

'yes please.'

'promise you won't tell mimi?'

'yeah, of course.'

And they were back to square one. 


End file.
